The Fuhrer's Bride
by gyrrlgenius
Summary: Complicated RoyEd fic. Read it if you want, don't jump to conclusions.


So, the time has come for me to finally decide to write a fanfic. Hopefully, I'll actually be able to go somewhere with this. Give me blessings…. Probably no one will post a review for this…and probably I'll give up. But, I hope I don't. If you happen to stumble upon this, please review it. Criticize. Flame. Compliment (if you honestly can…). Just…umm…don't leave me hanging here.

Current Rating: PG-13. I hope to squeeze some lemons in here eventually, so….

Pairing: Well, I'd really like to have people just figure it out. But, Roy/Ed would be a good guess.

Warnings: There will be spoilers. I will include spoiler warnings when they come up! Other than that, don't read it if you don't want to. I don't feel like warning you. If you don't like what's going on, click the little X in the top, right-hand corner. It's not difficult.

Dedication: Honestly, I'd have to dedicate this to my dear friend (and "brother") Aru. Some of you know her as GalacticHitchhiker42, the famed writer of Zunachst Nach Tag. Read that fic. Now. It takes priority over this one. But, you know, if you have time for both…. ; I was greatly influenced by Douglas Adams and Aru.

So, please give this fic a chance! I'm only trying my best here….

* * *

The pencil tapped on the desk. _Tpp…tpp…tpp…_ Eventually, the Fuhrer decided the noise was annoying him more than keeping him occupied, and he set it gently, tip side up, in his jar. The jar reflected his face, and, deciding he did not wish to look at his graying hair, he turned the jar around. This move disappointed him greatly, as the other side of the jar was just as shiny as the front side, and still reflected the wrinkles he was beginning to obtain. He stashed the jar behind his giant stack of papers, took a look at said papers, realized he needed a pencil to fill out the papers, reached for the jar, and successfully tipped it over. Grumbling, he picked a pencil off the ground and was frustrated at finding it had no point. Instead, he decided a ballpoint would suffice, grabbed a nice, blue one, and started his paperwork.

Promotional papers (which were improperly named, as these papers had nothing to do with promoting any company in particular, and would more aptly be called "papers that determine who is being promoted") lay on the top of the Fuhrer's pile. One name in particular jumped out at him. When the small-eyed man had become Fuhrer, he had promoted this alchemist for saving his life. Now, he let a smirk fall over his lips. This same alchemist would be promoted for the same thing.

The Fuhrer felt the cast that extended down his right leg. He wondered how that boy had managed to limit the injuries to that leg and his own near death.

The camp had woken up to the sound of cicadas. They opened their eyes to see the vile, grotesque, unsanitary, gigantic flies, and turn their heads to the water surrounding them. Confusion abounded as there had been no water the night before, and no rain had fallen. Bewildered soldiers wandered toward the water, were baffled when they couldn't reach it no matter how hard they tried, and were thankful to Hawkeye when she reminded them of the word "mirage."

And then it settled in on them. It was HOT. They were very unprepared for the long day ahead of them, but they started marching anyway.

Childhood memories flooded back on some of the soldiers, and a brave Lieutenant Havoc hummed the tune of "I Know a Song that gets on Everybody's Nerves." This was quickly stopped by a glare from the recently promoted Brigadier General Mustang. Roy's glare drifted to the near distance where he could almost make out the outline of Hakuro, the newly appointed Fuhrer. (SPOILER!) Thankfully, after the Fuhrer's murder, Roy had been applauded instead of demoted. He owed his new rank to his and Fullmetal's instincts. (END SPOILER)

The Brigadier General turned his head in the direction of some shaking leaves. He tapped Major Hawkeye on the shoulder, and pointed to the bushes. A pair of golden eyes watched this interaction, and then shifted toward the greenery Roy suspected.

Hawkeye's gun was lifted into the air at the bushes. At this point, confused army-men and alchemists stared quietly. Hawkeye, however, was determined, and she shot a bullet at the exact spot the leaves had rustled. A yelp sounded through the plant-life, and, taking this as a cue, opposing soldiers shot out from that direction.

King Hakuro turned in alarm at the sounds of a battle. Taken by surprise, he ordered the annihilation of the attackers. What he got was chaos. The guerilla attackers had a distinct advantage. They were fighting on their own terrain, and they had taken the Amestrian troops completely by shock. Many of these men fled. They hid in the trenches their allies had dug the night before. The brave few that remained looked ridiculously outnumbered and out of luck. Or, that is how they looked before the area was engulfed in flame.

Roy Mustang smirked as Hawkeye's bullets raced through the flames, pulverizing those who could survive the heat. His smirk vanished almost immediately, however, as a stream of rain poured over the entire area.

Quickly, Lieutenant Havoc tossed Roy his lighter. In midair, however, a silhouette shot Mustang's alternative down.

"Damn alchemist!" Roy cursed.

The silhouette stepped closer, revealing herself to be a tall brunette. "We've studied your fighting style. You can't win." With this, she laughed an intolerably high laugh, and pointed her gun at Roy's head.

The shot rang out, and Roy braced himself. The bullet was too close to attack without injuring everyone around—including his allies. Instead of a bullet creating a dent in Mustang's head, however, the bullet created a dent in the wall which sprang up in the way.

The Fullmetal Alchemist smirked. He'd shown that damn Brigadier General up nicely, or so he thought. He flinched when Roy told him "Thank you." He was supposed to be angry at looking bad, not appreciative.

He did not have time to consider this for long, however, when a cry rang out from where the Fuhrer had been mere moments ago. All searched the horizon for this man—the man in the country who's life came before all others. Unfortunately, the enemy saw him first, and a flood of water issued from the sky in an effort to drown the king and everyone in the vicinity.

* * *

In cards, there is one tragically depressed gentleman who forever has a sword stabbed through his frowning head. The King of Hearts, a quite good card, and which, in some versions of the classic game "War," beats every other card (including the parasitic aces and those illusive jokers). Seeing as he is the authority over the hearts suite, he may be chronically saddened because of that mysterious illness, love. A broken heart is a valid, if not pitiful, excuse for suicide.

That was not at all the case for Fuhrer King Hakuro, who did not have a sword through his head, did not want a sword through his head, did not want the life-threatening pool of non-illusionary water around him, and did not want to die, yet, of any cause. He was, though, reminded of the "Suicide King." For, even though that ruler's situation seemed entirely hopeless, he still managed to pop up in every deck of cards produced around the globe. The Fuhrer smiled as the water ceased pouring over his body, and became a cloud hanging over his head. He, too, would not disappear.

A shadow of a braid lay over Hakuro's wet face. "Good job, Fullmetal," he complimented. As if to lay another burden on the alchemist who had already saved two lives that day, giant rocks began falling from the sky.

A sweatdrop formed and fell down Ed's face. (He, of course, blamed it entirely on the heat.) He transmuted the first of these boulders into a pretty bouquet, and was promptly hit on the head by the next. He fell face first onto the Fuhrer, left leg ramming straight into Hakuro's right. The king let out a yelp in pain as he watched the barrage pile over his small, human shield.

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Well, the first chapter is over. Done. If you made it to the end, please review. If you didn't, you aren't reading this.

If anyone liked it, I'll update. If no one liked it (and be honest!), I'll delete it. That's the story.

Oh, and I hate it when I read something and don't know if the author's a guy or a girl. Not that gyrrlgenius isn't blatantly obvious, but I'm a she. Just in case anyone was wondering (which I'm absolutely positive you weren't.)


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